If They Don’t Perform, Spank These 5-Year-Old Sharks

Remember when you were 5 years old? How smart and clever and cute and precocious you were, how utterly lovable even when you were spinning a preposterous lie about who smeared the peas and carrots on the dining room table?

Now remember how you react, as you have reached a form of adulthood, when you are confronted by a 5-year-old? That cold fear, that dread, that “Oh why couldn’t he be in the back of the plane” chill that climbs up your neck?

The San Jose Sharks are 5 years old this year, with the first big party planned for Saturday night against those cranky septuagenarians from Chicago. And the Sharks are perfect little 5-year-olds. Already convinced they have mastered the central theory of 1990s ice hockey, yet mostly exasperating to those who follow them.

Oh, we Shark fans had our fun with them over the years - from the early days when they tried to convince us that the Cow Palace and Link Gaetz were good ideas; to the early San Jose period, when people didn’t know how to boo, let alone how much; to the postseason, when they not only just got there but made somebody’s life miserable along the way.

At age 5, though, psychologists tell us, a child’s character and personality are pretty much set in asphalt. We can see a 5-year-old for 20 minutes and guess fairly accurately that this kid will be the featured speaker at his college graduation, or the featured speaker at his own parole hearing.

In other words, we should know exactly what we have in this hockey team at this advanced stage of their development. The Sharks’ front office has stayed largely intact, and all but three of their original players have been weeded out. Half of their regular lineup is based on their drafts of the last four years.

But frankly, we’re confused.

Confused as to what to demand of them in the regular season, which we have seen doesn’t mean very much. Is it an unreasonable stance to think the Sharks should have a winning record finally? Most NHL teams have managed at least that after five years, and the few who didn’t (New Jersey, Pittsburgh, Hartford) started off with much less stable ownership and front-office personnel.

And we’re confused as to what to expect of them in the postseason. Sharks fans love to talk about beating Detroit two years ago and Calgary last season, noting the Red Wings restructured their team as a result of their loss and the Flames fired their coach and lost nine significant contributors.

Fans sort of gloss over the subsequent series, when Toronto two years back and Detroit last year got a load of what the Sharks do (neutral ice trap, steal a goal, hope for Arturs Irbe to cheat the laws of physics) and used that knowledge to rub them out. Toronto squeezed them with veterans and superior checking. Detroit crushed them like insects in the pantry.

Up until now, that’s been fine. Nobody expected more of the Sharks; most expected less. Kevin Constantine has gone from the bargain hire of the decade to being tied for fifth among NHL coaches in continuous service. It was a team of spare parts, odd lots and end pieces that did better than it should have in the part of the season that mattered - the last 10 games of the regular season and the playoffs - but worse than it should have in the 74 (or 38) games before then.

Oh, and one more thing. The fans swallowed all of it, hook, line and stinkers. It took a lot to get them to boo - being down 5-0 after one period was pretty much the line in the quicksand for that. But they remained fiercely loyal and defiantly blinkered in all other instances, acting so unlike your average American sports fan they could easily adopt a team made up of two-thirds foreign-borns.

Well, enough’s enough. It’s time to show cards, and neither Lombardi, Grillo, Constantine nor the players can say any longer, “Well, you know we’re still young,” and, “These things happen when have players from a lot of foreign countries,” and, “This is a hard system to learn.” They can’t even use “You know we’ve had a lot of injuries” unless they’ve lost at least four front-line players for more than half the season.

The Sharks are now a team like any other, without any more of the crutches and excuses and “Yeah, but our T-shirt sales would make Jerry Jones’ eyes bleed.” They are, next to the Wings and Leafs, the most stable team in the West, and as such have nothing to say except “Here’s our record.” No gray areas, no “Yeah, but,” no nothing.